


Silver Fox

by Corsets_and_Cardigans



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bottom Steve Rogers, Daddy Kink, Established Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Hook-Up, Kink Negotiation, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Silver Fox Tony Stark, Steve and Bucky are in their 30's, Tony is in his 50's, Top Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:06:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24646129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corsets_and_Cardigans/pseuds/Corsets_and_Cardigans
Summary: Steve nudged Bucky’s arm, “Silver foxes are his type.” He quickly took a sip of his beer before Bucky could hit him. Bucky could feel his heart beat faster.“Hmm…not the first time I’ve been called that, honestly.” Stark sipped his whiskey. He looked at them both, his eyes almost like a physical touch, “So, what’s your type, Blondie?”“Oh! Uhh...well,” Steve rubbed the back of his neck.Bucky knew an opportunity for revenge when he saw one. “He is a bossy fuckin’ bottom, and his type is anyone who can put up with that.”“Dammit Buck,” Steve sputtered, his ears turned pink in a flash.“I can handle that. Well, if you two are sober enough to consent, my car is waiting out front.”Steve’s eyes locked with his. It wasn’t their intention to go home with someone when they came out, just to look, but he was the one putting it all out there, and Bucky could see a challenging smirk on Steve’s plush lips, the one he gets when he wants to play. Stark waited for them both to nod, then he drained his glass before pulling out the blue-tinted glasses and settling them back on his face, “Shall we?
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 60
Kudos: 339
Collections: Stuckony Server Bingo Collection





	Silver Fox

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic in a long time, over 10 years, please be gentle. For the Stuckony Discord Server Fuckin' Bingo I2 - Silver Fox
> 
> Thank you to [Stella](https://archiveofourown.org/users/adoctoraday/pseuds/justanotherrollingstony) for Beta-ing, and [JehBeeEh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JehBeeEh), [AvengersNewB](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JehBeeEh) and [VenomousSoliloquy ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syan)for cheer reading!!

The club was nicer than their usual haunts. Sleek polished bar tops and a live band, complete with a jazz singer crooning out modern tunes restyled to fit the atmosphere. Definitely more Steve’s taste than his, but Bucky knew there would at least be some distinguished eye candy for him to look at. They were celebrating the end of a big contract for Bucky’s tech consulting gig, and he had a top shelf Sidecar to prove it. 

Bucky swiveled on his barstool to look around. There were some young hipsters taking over several tables by the stage, a few couples on dates, and at least one pretend mobster type taking up a booth along the wall with his crew. There was also the hottest silver fox he had ever laid his eyes on. 

“Steve.” he said. When his boyfriend didn’t answer, Bucky elbowed him in the side, “Stevie, look.”

Steve grunted with the blow and turned his head in Bucky’s direction, “Find yourself a daddy?”

“Dude, I don’t ever want to hear you say the word ‘daddy’ ever again. But yes. _God_ he’s gorgeous.” 

“Mr. ‘I’m going to wear sunglasses at night’ over there?” Steve said. He drained the last of his beer, catching the eye of the bartender and signaling for another round. 

“He makes it work,” Bucky pushed his empty glass next to Steve’s, “They’re light blue, it’s not like he’s wearing Ray Bans in here.”

“Whatever you say, Buck. It looks like you’ve got his attention though.” 

Bucky looked over and yeah, Mr. Foxy was definitely eyeing him. He stretched, popping his ass out a little. This was a rare night out, so he had pulled out the big guns. Tight black jeans and a skinny fit maroon button down that wasn’t designed for his bulk. It fit like it was painted on, and Bucky left the top button undone. 

Mr. Foxy gave him a smirk, tipping his whiskey glass in his direction before taking a sip. 

“Do you think I should go over there?” Bucky said, turning back to Steve and their freshly made drinks. 

“I don’t think you have to.” Steve said, smirking into his beer.

Mr. Foxy was headed their way. God, he was wearing a 3 piece suit, black on black on black. It made the silver of his neatly trimmed goatee and tousled hair shine. The smirk on his face looked like he was going to eat Bucky alive. 

“Hello boys.” Mr. Foxy set his tumbler on the bar and slid into the empty space next to Bucky. 

“Hello yourself, handsome,” Bucky said. He turned on his stool, knocking his legs next to the other man. 

“I’d offer to buy you a drink, but you look like you have that handled,” He took off his glasses and tucked them into the inner pocket of his suit jacket, “would you mind some company?”

“We’d love some-” Bucky started. He looked _very_ familiar all of a sudden.

“Holy Shit, you’re Tony Stark!” Steve said, a little too loudly.

Mr. Foxy spread his arms out, “At your service.” 

“I did some of the graphic design work for your Wired piece,” Steve stuck his hand out, “I’m Steve. This is Bucky.” 

“Well, Steve and Bucky, what brings two gorgeous young men out tonight?” 

“Celebrating, and Bucky is looking for a dadd-” he was going to kill Steve. Bucky tried to get his hand over Steve’s mouth before he embarrassed them both. In front of a fucking _celebrity_. Stark raised an eyebrow at them.

“Sorry, yes, we’re doing a little celebrating. And you, Mr. Stark?” Bucky shook his hand, noting how Tony was slow to let go, trailing his fingertips along Bucky’s palm.

“I’m in the city for a product unveiling and demo. Needed a drink, and,” Stark placed his hand on Bucky’s knee, “ hopefully, company for the evening. I don’t know about being a daddy, but I could take care of you, sweetheart.”

“Mr. Stark, I-I” Bucky was sure his face matched his shirt. 

Steve nudged Bucky’s arm, “Silver foxes are his type.” He quickly took a sip of his beer before Bucky could hit him. Bucky could feel his heart beat faster. 

“Hmm…not the first time I’ve been called that, honestly.” Stark sipped his whiskey. He looked at them both, his eyes almost like a physical touch, “So, what’s your type, Blondie?” 

“Oh! Uhh...well,” Steve rubbed the back of his neck. 

Bucky knew an opportunity for revenge when he saw one. “He is a bossy fuckin’ bottom, and his type is anyone who can put up with that.”

“Dammit Buck,” Steve sputtered, his ears turned pink in a flash. 

“I can handle that. Well, if you two are sober enough to consent, my car is waiting out front.” 

Steve’s eyes locked with his. It wasn’t their intention to go home with someone when they came out, just to look, but he was the one putting it all out there, and Bucky could see a challenging smirk on Steve’s plush lips, the one he gets when he wants to play. Stark waited for them both to nod, then he drained his glass before pulling out the blue-tinted glasses and settling them back on his face, “Shall we?” 

***

Mr. Stark ushered them into a sleek black limo. Bucky felt like he had stepped into a different world. Stark situated himself between them, dropping a hand on each thigh. Bucky didn’t want to waste any time, he pressed himself into Stark’s side, and angled his head for a kiss, sighing when he felt Stark’s hand drag across the stubble of his chin and anchor itself in his hair. Stark pulled him in, kissing him softly, goatee tickling Bucky’s lips. He coaxed Bucky’s mouth open, deepening the kiss. Stark pulled back, giving his lips one last taste of his teeth, and Bucky heard himself whine as he clutched Mr. Stark’s suit jacket.

Stark chuckled before turning his head and drawing Steve in with his free hand. Bucky watched them kiss with Stark’s hand still firmly in his hair, gripping him, grounding him. He palmed himself in his jeans, seriously regretting how tight they were. The ride could have been five minutes or five hours, time lost in trading kisses across the back seat. They spilled out into the private entrance for the hotel and Bucky caught the smile of the chauffeur as he closed the car doors behind them. 

Mr. Stark nudged Steve toward him in the elevator, leaning back to watch the show. Bucky pressed his boyfriend against the glass of the penthouse elevator. It had been a while since he and Stevie spent the night with a third, but they were well aware of the picture they made. Stevie’s pale skin and cornsilk hair contrasting with Bucky’s tan and dark locks tucked back into a low bun. Steve tried to suck his brain out through his tongue while Bucky rucked the bottom of Steve’s navy button-down up, exposing a sliver of his toned, creamy stomach. He ran his hand up under it, firmly pressing over a nipple in the way he knew Steve liked, making him whine and buck, eliciting a sharp curse from Stark’s side of the elevator. 

Bucky felt his collar being tugged and realized they’d reached their floor. 

“Come along, boys,” Mr. Stark said, leading them out and flinging the doors to the penthouse open dramatically, “make yourselves at home.” 

The sitting room was warm and lush. The electric fireplace had been turned on, and low light lamps added to the glow. A large plush couch took up most of the room, and Bucky noticed an ice bucket with champagne, and a table with flutes and a cloched plate near it. Mr. Stark sat himself in the center of the couch, unbuttoning his jacket before stretching both arms out over the back of the seats. 

Steve walked to the windows, looking down on Fifth Avenue before coming back to Bucky’s side in front of the fireplace, “How do you want us, Mr. Stark.” Bucky could hear the brat in Steve’s voice as he spoke, see the firelight dancing in his eyes. 

“Normally I tell my dates to call me Tony, but I’m sensing you two want a little bit of power play?” 

He phrased it like a question, and Bucky appreciated the care, not enough of the men they used to play with wanted their opinions. Steve’s arm snaked around Bucky’s waist, supportive and gentle. 

“Yes, Sir,” Bucky answered, he wasn’t sure if the light was low enough to hide his blush. 

Mr. Stark was circling his fingers, soft scrapes on the fabric of the couch, thinking. Bucky’s knees were weak at how the firelight sparkled in the silver of his hair, mussed from the limo ride. 

“First things first,” Stark removed his glasses once again. Bucky could see his eyes were warm and full of the shades of whiskey and chocolate and glittering with amber, “are you two a thing? Just FWB’s, what’s up?” He lazily waved a few fingers in their direction. 

“Well, Stevie and I ‘ave been together since we knew what our dicks were for.'' This earned Bucky a chuckle from both of the other men in the room, “But we’ve always been open to new experiences and partners. Get tested together after each one.” 

“Excellent, I have clean results from the past six months, but I’m also perfectly fine with using protection.” Stark waved in the general direction of the bedroom portion of the suite, “My PA packs a veritable pharmacy for me when I travel.”

“If it’s all the same to you, we usually insist on it for hookups,” Steve said, rubbing his hand on Bucky’s waist. 

“Perfectly fine. Anything else off the table?” Stark was looking at them with an intensity that Bucky imagined he used on his projects. Formulating a plan, gathering data, figuring different outcomes. 

Bucky’s voice came out like a croak, “No choking, either with your hand or your dick, or slapping. Please, Sir.” 

“Of course, baby.” Stark’s voice deepened, turned smooth like his whiskey, “You need me to be good and gentle with you?”

The words swept over Bucky’s skin like silk, raising goosebumps and warming up from the inside. “Please, Sir.” Steve tucked in close, pressing a kiss to Bucky’s temple. 

“Alright my lovelies,” Stark sunk deeper into the plush of the couch, “be good boys and get each other naked for me.” 

This was familiar. Steve’s hands on him, lips tracing the skin of his ear, his neck, his collarbone, as thick fingers worked buttons. Bucky could hear Mr. Stark’s low commentary in the background, telling them how gorgeous they were together as he worked on Steve’s belt and fly. He could hear Steve’s chuckle as they fumbled with their shoes and socks, the low crackle of the fireplace adding to the melody of the evening. 

“Come here lovelies,” Mr. Stark crooked his finger at them. Then pointed to the floor, “my good boys. Let’s see you on your knees.” His smile was a chain reaction, little lines that haven’t been smoothed away artificially all curved and bunched together. 

“And if I don’t want to be good?” Steve said, a cocky smirk on his lips. 

Mr. Stark just looked at him coolly while he undid the clasps of his cuff links. He dropped them into the pocket of his suit jacket, then slid it off his shoulders. He draped the jacket over the edge of the arm of the couch, still silent, then started neatly rolling and tucking his sleeves up. His forearms are muscled and veined, like he worked out, or maybe Stark was more hands on when building his inventions than Bucky realized. 

He stood, “Good boys get rewarded. They get to come. Naughty boys,” Stark’s hand glided through Steve’s hair, pulling taught, making his head arc backwards. He leaned forward into Steve’s space and breathed, “naughty boys get to watch me take apart their boy with my lips, my fingers, and my cock. In that order. Until he’s coming dry and you can’t tell if he’s begging me to stop, or to keep going. I will bind your pretty little hands to a chair with Armani ties, don’t think I won’t, to keep you from touching yourself.” He pulled back at their combined whines, unclenching his hand, running it through Steve’s blond hair like he was pet. “Though, if we’re going to play like that, I think we’ll need some safewords.”

“I think we’ll be good, Sir. Won’t we Stevie?” Bucky said, tipping his head as Mr. Stark’s other hand came up to touch him. 

“You can still have words. Or Red. Or even just ‘Stop.’ I’ll never deny you that, lovelies.” Stark kept petting him, smooth gentle strokes. 

Bucky watched Steve sink to his knees, then dip his head, and look up through his lashes. The picture of contrite innocence, baby blues and pink cheeks and bitten lips. “I’ll be good, Sir. I promise. We usually use the stoplight system when we...” Then a flutter of lashes and a baby pout, “when we play together.” Steve finished. He started nuzzling Mr. Stark’s thigh, hands twitching like he wanted to reach out and touch. 

“You’re killing me, sweetheart, just look at you.” Stark said. Bucky loved the way his voice went gravely and hoarse. Bucky knelt next to his partner, and Stark stooped to give them both a quick peck on their foreheads before sitting back down. He leaned back, stretching his arms out again, across the back of the couch. “Go on, darlings. You can have a little treat and suck me off before we go to bed.” 

Bucky reached for Mr. Stark’s belt, clanking it open while Steve worked the button and zipper to free Mr. Stark’s cock. Bucky felt so vulnerable, looking up at this powerful man. Older and so in control, confidence written in the smirk on his lips and lines of his body. His cock was handsomely thick, curved up in a long arc. It stood bold and bare against the dark lines of Mr. Stark’s suit. Mr. Stark looked decadent and rich and _commanding_. Bucky’s own dick was so hard it hurt, his whole body felt hot and prickled whenever Mr. Stark’s brown eyes met his. Steve looked just as affected, his pale Irish skin was flushed. Bucky knew Steve’s cock as well as, if not better than his own, and if the way it was dripping into the penthouse carpet was any indication, Stevie was ready to get to the main event.

Bucky kissed his best friend, his partner, around the cock of this veritable stranger. His tongue swiping out to catch a drop of fluid and smear it on Steve’s lips. They huddled together between Stark’s spread legs, sharing warmth and the taste of his skin. Bucky felt the spit start to run down his chin, through his stubble, heard the rumble of Mr. Stark’s babble over the slicking of their mouths as they fed each other his precome and their own saliva. Steve dropped his mouth lower to kiss and lick Stark’s shaft, so Bucky busied himself with the crown. He loved how he could go from feeling vulnerable at the feet of a titan of industry, to being the one in power. Dragging curses and groans and pleas from the mouth of a man who was making more just sitting there, getting his cock sucked, than they made in a month. Dirtying up a suit that cost more than what they had in savings. 

Eventually, Bucky felt Stark’s hand flutter into his hair and down to his nape. It clenched and drew Bucky back with a tug. Stark’s fingers combed out the tie keeping Bucky’s hair back. He could see that Steve was pulling back with one last lick. 

“Boys, so good for me. Wow, look at the picture you two make,” Stark said, breathless and panting. “Goddamn gorgeous boys. I need to get you into bed. Up. Up you go.”

Steve stood first, holding a hand out to help Bucky off his knees. His other was wrapped around his cock, straining red and purple. He gave it a few lazy strokes before Mr. Stark knocked his hand away. 

“Nope, that’s mine, sweetheart,” Stark said as he stood up, into their space. Bucky reached over and pulled him in for a kiss by his tie. He made sure Mr. Stark could taste it all, himself and Steve and all the pieces and parts smeared on Bucky’s tongue. Mr. Stark’s hand was on his ass, grabbing and pinching, Steve’s breath was on his shoulder and as he pressed close, like closing the lines of a formation. Bucky drew back so Stevie could give his mouth up for a taste. 

Bucky worked on the knot of Mr. Stark’s tie, then drifted down to the buttons on his waistcoat. He smoothed his fingers under the thicker fabric to push it off Stark’s shoulders, catching on his elbows a little, where his sleeves were rolled up. Stark let Bucky undress him, like a valet, while he coaxed pornographic noises out of Steve. Tweaking a nipple here, a firm tug on his cock there, holding him up with one arm while Bucky peeled off his shirt in a coordinated dance. He dropped down into a crouch to undo Mr. Stark’s leather shoes, Italian and expertly shined. Stark’s trousers, underwear and socks all came off in quick succession and once Bucky was standing again Stark started herding them towards the bedroom part of the suite. 

“On the bed, both of you.” Stark said, walking over to his luggage and toiletry bag for supplies. “I want you on your backs lined up like good little soldiers.” 

Steve tugged Bucky down, trading kisses and chuckles, sharing breaths drunk on arousal and whatever was still left in their systems from the bar that seemed like a lifetime ago. Bucky rolled to his back, right hand clasped tightly in Steve’s as they watched their lover come over with condoms and lube. 

“I have an idea, darlings, something I’ve never been blessed to get to do before.” He laid out his bounty next to Bucky’s hip. “I’m going to open you both up, then take my time taking turns with you.” 

“Both of us?” Bucky asked, tilting his head. 

“Yup,” Stark answered, popping the ‘P’ before grinning, “Think you can handle being sandwiched on top while I fuck sweet Steven here? Before I pull out and pay a little attention to your needy hole?” Stark’s hands were at his knees, pushing them wide and knocking them into Steve’s. “Then right as it’s starting to get good, I switch back to Steve. Repeat until you two are blathering messes. Sound good?”

“Guh.” Bucky’s brain was short circuiting. 

“That means _Yes,_ from both of us,” Steve laughed before bringing their joined hands to his mouth for a kiss.

“Well, I’d like some verbal consen-”

“Yes, all of it yes!” Once his brain caught up with the mental image of it all, Bucky needed this more than air.

“Hmm... is that how good boys ask for things?” Stark was drawing little circles on the insides of Bucky’s knees, sending little skitters of pleasure to his cock. 

“Yes, Please, Sir?” Bucky offered. He was squirming already.

“Try again, darling.” Stark whispered low. He used the edge of his nail to trace a line of his own design on Bucky’s tender skin. 

Bucky wracked his brain for what Mr. Stark could want. He watched the older man run a hand through his hair, pushing it back before returning to Bucky’s inner thigh, and it hit him, sunk deep into his brain, a rush of heat.

“Please, Daddy,” he whined it out, arching his body in a desperate plea. 

“There’s my boy. I’ll give you what you need.” 

Bucky had learned a few facts about Mr. Stark; he picked up men in bars, liked a little scrape of teeth just under the head of his cock when getting blown by two people, and he wears $5,000 suits with mismatched socks. Mr. Stark was also apparently ambidextrous. He slicked up both hands, grabbing and rearranging them both until he could start working them both open. It felt so surreal, laying there with Steve as they both moaned and writhed on a billionaire’s fingers. Deft like a pianist, but callused like a laborer. 

Time stretched with them, panting into each other’s mouths, holding onto each other, holding onto Stark. Bucky could feel the fingers leave him, and warm strong hands coaxing him over onto Steve’s broad chest. He settled his knees on each side of Steve’s narrow waist, tucked in tight to his skin. They both turned and watched Stark grab a condom from the, in Bucky’s honest opinion, ambitious pile. They were both in their 30’s, and Mr Stark was even older. But he got extra points for being prepared.

“Are you boys ready?” Stark asked, rolling the condom on and slicking it down with a last pump of lube. 

“Yes, Daddy.” Steve’s voice echoed his own. It didn’t sound so bad coming from him now, breathless and sweet.

“Goddamn, boys, killing me with those blue eyes.” Mr. Stark leaned over with a kiss for them both, dragging his hands down their sides and Bucky’s back, flitting over their legs. Bucky wiggled impatiently. It earned him a chuff from above and a groan below, so he did it again. 

“Be good now, sweetheart.” Stark said, and Bucky felt the tip of his cock nudge at his entrance. Stark pushed forward, so Bucky braced to not slip too far up Steve’s body. As Stark rocked into Bucky, Steve’s cock slid deliciously against his, and Stark’s hands on his hips directed them in a symphony of movement. Before too long, he could feel Mr. Stark pull out, and Bucky turned his head to watch him hook Steve’s legs into the crook of his elbows. Stevie was moving against him this time, and Bucky licked the choked off moans from his lips.

Mr. Stark was a man of his word, taking his time fucking them, like he was working out how best to get them off, like they were a puzzle to take apart and put back together. Every time Bucky was speared on his length, it was like the crescendo of his orgasm started low, rising almost to crest, before Stark withdrew and lowered himself into Steve. It simmered while his cock bumped over Steve’s own, over Steve’s slick belly, flexing and releasing with the waves of motion that came with getting fucked. Stark’s breath and words were hot in their ears, thankful and cursing and awestruck in turn. Bucky could hear Steve, begging in the sweet way he does when he’s close but is waiting for permission. It's a sound that Bucky wants to hear every day until the end of time. The way his breath hitches like it used to back when he was an asthmatic twink, the way the pitch rises just a little whenever his prostate is nailed.

“It’s ok, sweetie, come for me. Make a mess, I want to see it.” Mr. Stark ordered. Bucky makes sure to angle his head so they can both watch Steve shatter apart underneath them. Stark’s strokes never slowed or faltered, fucking Steve through his orgasm and into over-sensitivity before finally pulling out. 

Stark gently tucked some of Bucky’s hair behind his hair, “You’re turn, lovely. Hold on.” He fucks in like a piston on an engine, and holding on is all Bucky _can_ do other than gasp. Steve’s big arms are wrapped around Bucky’s middle, holding him down for Stark’s cock. Steve’s lips are on his skin, whispering encouragement.

Somewhere out in the clouds in Bucky’s head, he can hear himself start to plead. To come, for Stark to come, to fill him up, begging and throwing out ‘daddy’ like a devotional prayer and supplication. Stark’s hand is on the back of his neck, his cock thick and hot inside him when Bucky breaks. His prayers answered as he comes, and the world seems to slow and spin and stretch like taffy. 

Breaths are ragged behind him when he comes up enough to take stock, Mr. Stark reeling from his own orgasm. Steve is smoothing over his skin with firm hands, and Stark pulls out and steps away. Bucky shifts to his side, and Mr. Stark comes back with a cool cloth to clean them. 

“Thank you, Mr. Stark.” Bucky said, eyes lidded and breath returning to normal.

“Please, after that, I think you boys can call me Tony.” He cleans them both, tossing the rag in the vague direction of the en suite before curling up behind Bucky. 

“Wow,” Steve said, still looking flushed from cheek to navel. A post orgasmic poster child. 

“Wow indeed. I’m an old man, don’t you boys know I have a heart condition?” Tony chuckled. “When I stop seeing stars, I’m going to drag you both into the Jacuzzi and feed you strawberries and chocolate and champagne, then maybe sleep for a million years.” He stretched and yawned, reaching around Bucky to connect with Steve.

“There’s a Jacuzzi?” Steve perked up, and looked behind him into the en suite like an excited puppy. 

“Of course. I would never shack up with two delightful lovelies like you without full amenities. I’m not a heathen.”

Bucky relaxed into the plush of the bed, floating in the endorphins and banter of his partner and this incredible man who wanted to take care of them. He looked forward to the aftercare Tony promised, and for what the morning would bring. He wanted to see the morning sun glint off Tony’s hair, silver on the same pillow as Stevie’s gold. 

***

Bucky woke, stretching out in all directions. He could hear a set of voices talking quietly in the rest of the hotel room, and the clatter of dishware. Steve always liked to joke that Bucky looked like a character in the old cartoons they watched as kids, where the scent of coffee was a physical thing and would hook him by the nose and lead them to the source. He shuffled out of the bedroom, in the pair of boxers he threw on before Stevie and Tony poured him into bed. The heat of the Jacuzzi, the champagne, and getting railed had simply worn him out. 

“Hey there, sleepy.” Steve murmured.

“Mrrrf.” Bucky fell into his lap on the couch, snuggling up into his boyfriend’s neck and shoulder. He had put his clothes from last night back on, the scent of cologne and the bar still lingering. 

“That’s Bucky-speak for coffee, please, Tony.” Steve swept his hands up and down Bucky’s bare back as he spoke, rattling off how Bucky took his coffee.

Tony got up to pour him a cup, and returned with that and a small plate of fruit and cut pieces of breakfast danishes. He snuggled close, trading off the plate and the mug as Bucky ate, slowly becoming human again. He brushed a few locks of Bucky’s bed head away from his face, “How are you doing this morning, sweetheart?” 

“Good,” he finished the last of the coffee in one slurp, “thank you.” 

“Tony and I were talking, we wanted your opinion once you were up.” 

“Well, I could use a refill, but go on.” Bucky said, climbing off Steve’s lap to get it himself. 

Tony spoke first, “Well, I…” he looked so soft in the beginnings of his suit for the day. His hair was damp and curling around his ear, and he smelled like aftershave and dark roast. The top buttons of his shirt were still undone, it was charmingly domestic. “I had a nice time last night.”

Bucky smiled and settled between them, “I think we did too. Stevie?” 

“Yeah, Buck. I did too. It was suggested that maybe we should exchange numbers? Maybe meet up again the next time Tony is in New York?”

“My exact offer was to fly you both to Malibu whenever I needed to see your pretty lips,” Tony traced a finger along Bucky’s mouth, catching some sugar from breakfast, “wrapped around my cock.” 

Bucky felt his face heat. _God Yes_. He opened his mouth, letting Tony’s finger slip in. He licked the sugar off, swirling his tongue around as blatantly as he did around Tony’s cock the night before before popping off, “Yeah, I can get on board with that.” 

Tony brought his mouth to meet Bucky’s, all filth and promise and obscenities. He pulled back just enough to rumble out, “I have to brunch with the board and investors, but maybe afterwards, I could take you boys to dinner?” 

Steve nestled his nose into Bucky’s neck, pressing soft kisses on all the exposed skin of his shoulders before unleashing those lethal baby blues of his on Tony, “That sounds good, Mr. Stark, but can we have dessert first?” 

And if Mr. Stark was late to brunch, well, that’s just how eccentric billionaires are sometimes.

This gif is what inspired this  



End file.
